Leap of Faith
by Barn Bum
Summary: Based on the Heartland series by Lauren Brooke.
1. Prologue

This is based on the Heartland series by Lauren Brooke.  It takes place sometime after book 12, but it doesn't involve anything that happens in 13-14.  It also involves Nick Haliwell's daughter, Emilie, who I made up, so this is AU.

Leap of Faith

Prologue

I concentrate hard on the final fence.  Over this jump, and I'm in the Pan Am games.  I focus hard, steadying Ally's long, powerful stride.  I'm in one of those moments when it's just me and Ally and the jump.  Dead silence.  Even the strong pounding of my mare's hooves is muted.  The noise of the crowd fades out.  Nothing.  Suddenly, Ally tenses.  The harsh crackling of a plastic bag barely registers in my brain before we're in the air, only 3 strides away from the jump.  Ally's forelegs thrash around, trying to lose the bag.  I know I'm in the real world now and I hear everything.  That everything is Ally's snorts and the bag's crackling.  The crowd is silent with shock.  Ally touches down, snaking her head down with her nose nearly touching the ground.  She's still tense and I know it isn't over.  She rears up again as I desperately grab at the reins.  One catches around one of her forelegs and snaps as Ally continues to thrash.  Suddenly she's down again and the bag is off her leg, but she barely notices.  She takes off at a flat-out gallop.  I glance around as best as I can.  There are jumps everywhere.  There's no way to steer her away from them.  I slip my arms around her neck, preparing myself for an emergency dismount.  All I feel is falling, falling, pain, then nothing….

TBC

Please review, this was just the prologue.


	2. Chapter 1

Ok! Second chapter and some clarification. Also- enter Heartland stuff

Leap of Faith

Chapter 1

I trotted Luna over to the fence as one of my working students, Daniel Lawson, approached, looking puzzled.

"There's some nurse from a hospital in California on the phone for you. She refused to tell me why she was calling though. She just said she needed to speak with you." Daniel said.

I dismounted from Luna as fast as I could and slid in between the fence boards calling to Daniel over my shoulder, telling him to walk Luna out and then rub her down.

Thoughts ran through my head at the speed of light. What happened? I picked up the phone, knowing that I didn't want to hear what the nurse on the other end of the line had to say.

"Hello?" I said, hiding the slight tremor in my voice. "Nick Halliwell speaking."

"Mr. Halliwell, I'm sorry to tell you this, but your daughter has been injured in an accident at a horse show. She sustained a small skull fracture and a broken collarbone. She is currently in a coma, but she is responding and should regain consciousness soon." The nurse told me in a brisk, businesslike tone.

After finding my voice, I managed to ask, "How's her horse?"

The nurse paused for a moment before telling me that she didn't know, but she found the number for the equine hospital closest to the showgrounds. I put down the phone and just stood for a moment, soaking it all up. I glanced up at a bulletin board that was plastered with photographs of every horse that had come here. My eyes scanned the pictures, passing over Luna, Dylan, Star, and countless other horses before I finally saw what I was looking for. It was a professionally done photo of a seal bay mare and her rider soaring over a high jump. The rider was a tall, skinny 16-year-old girl. She was my daughter. The horse was her favorite, a young thoroughbred mare she had rescued from the track almost 4 years ago. Emma named her Alloverdaplace because of her lack of a trot or canter. As soon as Emilie cued her for a transition, she would take off at a headlong gallop and it was next to impossible to stop her. They had even broken a bit together once. All of those problems had stopped years ago. Even though Ally was still a typical thoroughbred, she could easily handle high-level jumps. Today, they should have been competing in a major show. It could have been a turning point for them. Then again, maybe it was.

"Please be OK Emma. You too Ally." I whispered.

I picked up the telephone and dialed the number of the equine hospital, took a deep and pressed the SEND button. I heard the phone ring once before someone picked it up.

"Hello. River Valley Equine Hospital." A very professional voice said.

"Hello, I wanted to ask about my daughter's horse. She's a seal bay thoroughbred mare. Her name is Alloverdaplace. How is she?"

"Well, I'm sorry sir, but Ally died instantly. When she crashed into the jump, she broke her neck." The secretary replied.

"Oh. Thanks" I managed to mumble before I put down the phone. Ally was gone. Emma would be devastated. I went over to my secretary and told her to get me some airplane tickets to River Valley, California as soon as possible. Forget the show in France.

::2 weeks later::

"So are there any new horses I would really like?" I asked my dad. We were only a few hours away from dad's stable and after the 5 day trip, I was eager to get a break from sleeping in a moving trailer, a real bed wouldn't be bad either. I'd been living in the trailer for the whole year I had been away on the circuit.

"Nope. I hate to break it to you, but they're all sane." He replied. He went on to tell me about each horse and all of the working students he currently had. When we finally got home, I was bored to death. I jumped out of the truck and walked into the stable. I greeted the horses as I passed them until I got down to one of the end stalls. I looked at it. A new nameplate had been put on. _Summer Storm._ I glanced into the stall, but it was empty. I leaned against the stall partition and closed my eyes, tears running down my cheeks. _Why did you have to leave, Ally? Why?_

"Umm…" I heard someone saw. I opened my eyes, seeing a guy that I guess must have been one of the working students leading a big dapple gray horse.

"Sorry" I said as I moved out of the way. "Hi, I'm Emilie, Nick's daughter." I said.

"I'm Daniel Lawson, one of the working students. This is Storm" he said, indicating the horse he was leading. "I didn't know Nick had a daughter."

"Oh, well, I've been away on the circuit for about a year. I'm glad to be back here." I replied. Somehow, it was a lie. Yes I was glad to be back, but something was missing. Ally was missing. I bit my lip slightly before saying, "My horse, Ally, used to have this stall."

"What happened?" Daniel asked softly.

"There was an accident at a show a couple weeks ago. Something scared her and she took off and crashed into a jump. She broke her neck." I said brokenly.

"My mare, Amber was hurt at a show a while ago. She broke her leg. We tried to help. She had an operation, but an infection set in. We had to put her down. I know how you feel." He said sympathetically. I watched silently as Daniel walked Storm into the stall. Ally's stall.

"Emma!" I heard my dad say.

"Yeah?" Dad walked up to me and told me to go to an auction that was going on nearby and buy a horse.

"OK" I said, turning to leave.

"Emma," dad called, "try to get something decent." I grinned and nodded, heading off to my trailer.

Ok, short, but I'll have more later. This was really just a second prologue. The action will come in later.


	3. Chapter 2

Ok, this might still be considered a bit of a prologue, but bear with me people. The next chapter should get into the real action and the Heartland stuff. It will get longer, I promise. I usually write 7-8 page stuff once I get past the prologue.

Leap of Faith

Chapter 2

::Daniel::

"Something decent?" I asked, wondering what Nick meant. Surely his daughter knew a good horse when she saw one, right?

"Emilie has a tendency to look for a green-as-grass runaway type of horse. She'll never actually look for a flashy show horse, she just turns the others into them." Nick replied with a grin. "Ally was an ex-racer that had no idea what a trot or canter was…" Nick broke off, glancing into the stall as I led Storm in.

::Emma::

"Damn bumper-pull trailers! How the heck are you supposed to back into that tiny socket?!" Have I ever mentioned that bumper pull trailers are my worst enemy? Give me a gooseneck any day. After a while I FINALLY managed to get the trailer hooked up to the truck. Of course, then I had to get all the stupid cords and chains hooked up too. I wish trailers were easier to hook up. Hooking up is my least favorite part of trailering. Well, then again, depending on the horse, loading up and unloading can be a real pain too.

I got back into the cab and drove off, checking the directions every couple minutes. My dad gives awful directions and it didn't help that I hadn't been here in a year. Eventually I found my way to the livestock auction place (after three wrong turns and stopping at a gas station to ask directions), parked the trailer, and headed for the auction barn. "Try to get something decent. Hah. Decent. Yeah, right." I said out loud, receiving an odd look from some guy standing in the doorway. I watched as show horse after show horse after show horse was led into the ring. Then there was a short break in which a lot of people left. Glancing toward the parking lot, I noticed that most of the nicer, shiny trailers were leaving and the parking lot was now dominated by "pots" as they are called. The trailers used to take horses to the slaughter house. Well, dad gave me a few thousand. I could save a couple of horses. Who cares if I was supposed to get a good horse. I sure as hell don't.

I watched the first few horses led in. First was a bay horse so old that it was roaning out and its back was hanging unbelievably low. The others were all too old. About 15 horses later we got into the young horses that had been mistreated at some point. A nice bay 8-year old went to a girl who looked about 16. A tall black colt caught my eye. He was about 4 and still in a growth spurt, but it looked like his conformation was perfect for jumping. By my guess he was thoroughbred-y type, perhaps a bit of Hanoverian mixed in. He had been abused and was extremely head shy. I could see a few scars on his head, but from here, I couldn't tell exactly what made them. I managed to buy him for $2000.

(A.N.- I'm just improvising most of this auction stuff cuz I've never been to one)

I still had some more money, so I stuck around. A few more horses went through until a potentially flashy filly came in. She was a bay morgan and a way on the small side for jumping, but her hind end looked pretty powerful. She had obviously been broken in by charros. She had a scar around her middle and around each fetlock. Somehow I didn't quite believe that the diamond-shaped star was natural either. She kept trying to set back and run away from her handlers. A couple of the killer buyers threw in bids, but the girl who bought the bay bidded too. I outbidded her and the killers weren't willing to go any higher, so I got her.

I walked back to the trailer and grabbed a couple halters. I figured that the colt would be easier to load, so I went to his stall first. He was trying to hide at the back and since he was black he did have an advantage, but it isn't too hard to spot a 17 hand horse. I slipped into the stall and shut the door behind me. I leaned on it, but didn't move as the horse glanced at me suspiciously.

"So what should we name you, big guy?" He snorted at the sound of my voice.

"Hmmm… Apollo? No, that's more of a chestnut or sorrel name. They say that if you name a horse Sugar or Sweetie it'll be a brat, so what do you think of Diablo?" Another snort. I grinned.

"Oh you don't like it? Devil and Demon are too plain. How about Donas? That one's Gaelic. Then again, you can imagine how an announcer could screw that one up. I've even heard them screw up on 'Hershey' so maybe we should stick with English, huh?" I pulled a carrot out of my pocket and held it out to him. He stretched his neck out and tried to take the carrot without getting near me.

"Sorry buddy, but you aren't getting this until you come a little closer. Hmmm… names. How about…. Burn? Wow, I've been listening to WAY too much Three Days Grace. But seriously, how does that sound? A little plain as a show name, so… Crash 'n' Burn? Yeah, it fits. And if that whole opposite thing is true, maybe you won't ever have problems with jumping!" I said with a grin. I took a step closer to the horse. He didn't shrink back. I walked up to him and patted him on the neck. He flinched, but didn't back away. I broke of a small piece of carrot and gave it to him.

"Alright buddy. I'm going to put the halter on you. I think it'll fit and I promise it won't be too small." I held the rope halter carefully and slipped it over his nose without touching him. I gave him another piece of carrot and gently slid the top piece of the halter over his neck, carefully tying it off. "Good boy! See, halters aren't scary and neither am I. If I ever hurt you, you've got my full permission to beat me into the ground. Honest. I would really deserve it." I opened the stall door and led him out, making sure he didn't bump into anything. I led him through the barn, out into the parking lot, and over to the trailer. I walked him around in front of the trailer for a while before asking him to load. He actually went in pretty well. I walked up to him and gave him a carrot before I closed the divider and left to get the filly.

I found her tied in a stall wearing a too-small halter. "Hey little girl. How ya doin'? I took another piece of carrot and held it out to her, but she wouldn't take it. I carefully unbuckled the halter and put it around her neck, untying it in case she set back. I started rubbing her neck, slowly moving up toward her neck. When I got my hand about halfway up her neck, she threw her head up, threatening to set back.

"Well, I guess I'll have fun getting this on you." I said quietly. I whispered to the filly in Spanish, not really paying attention to what I was saying. All the time, I gently rubbed her neck, using a technique similar to T-Touch, but I didn't really know how to do it, so I just made up my own way. I held the halter up carefully, offering it to her, giving her the option to put her nose in it. She didn't toss her head, but she didn't lower it either. I gently slipped the halter over her ears. Or at least I tried to. As soon as my hands touched her head, she flew backwards, head it the air, threatening to rear.

"Sorry honey, but right now, I'm gonna have to do this the hard way. We'll work it out later, alright?" Moving slowly, I walked up to her, first tossing the lead rope over her back and sliding it up to her neck and I held it there. Then I pulled her head down and kept my arm over it. If she threw her head, my arm and I were going with it. I got the nosepiece around her nose easily enough, but she fought for all she was worth to keep me from crossing the crownpiece over her head. When I finally managed to, I found that she wasn't really halterbroke. She didn't understand the concept of leading at all. I walked around putting slight pressure to push her forward. She tried to kick me. Wonderful. I was in the middle of a big auction, trying to load a horse that wasn't even halter broke. Damn I'm screwed. I had no way of working with her to teach her anything here. I would just have to BS my way back to the trailer, then into it. Fun. Right.

Have you ever seen the video for Terri Clark's song "Girls Lie Too"? OMG it's hilarious.

Oh and the thing with the filly, we used to have a horse at the barn where I board Hershey that was a 14.2 morgan who could jump the back fence (9 ft high) from a standstill. Needless to say, George could even jump out of his stall.


	4. Chapter 3

Heehee! I'm trying to do longer chapters, but they take so long and I kinda get bored writing long stuff, but I'm trying!

Corkey- you rock

PuNKyCoWGiRL- you're thinking too hard. The 16-year-old _is_ Amy, but obviously Emma doesn't know that cuz she doesn't know Amy.

RenegadeRanger- Thanks for the review, but I was going on the usual "killer auction" deal that a horse would go for a dollar a pound.

Ok, on with the story-------

Leap of Faith

Chapter 3

::back at Nick's::

::Daniel::

I was just putting up Storm after a workout when I saw the trailer come up the drive. It was Nick's smallest, a 2 horse bumper-pull that no one ever wanted to drive, but apparently, Emma had dealt with it. After all, she was only hauling one horse.

As Emma stopped the truck, Nick called out to her, "How many did you get Em?"

"Two. A jet-black 4 year old colt, thoroughbredish type, maybe with a bit of Hano and a little bay Morgan filly, probably about 3, that was broken in by charros." Emma replied.

"What's wrong with the colt?" Nick asked.

"Beaten on the head with a 2x4 and, for good reason, extremely headshy. Hell, I would be too." She said. "I think I'll back the trailer up to the gate to unload the two of them. We'll just keep them out for now. I think they could use the space. How's the fence in the far pasture?"

"Which one?" I asked. I knew the general area she was talking about.

"The tiny one." She replied.

"Are you sure about keeping them together in there?" Nick asked.

"Yeah. They need to be horses for a while. How's the fence?" she repeated.

"No idea. I haven't been down there in a couple years. We don't use that part of the farm much." Nick said.

"Then I guess I'll go check it out. D'you want to come, Dad? I'll need somebody to get the gates for me." She asked.

"I'm busy with Whiz. Daniel, why don't you go? It would be good for you to see what's down there." Nick said as he turned away, heading back to the barn where Lucky Whizelli, a new jumper prospect was waiting, half-tacked, to be assessed by Nick.

Emma shrugged. "C'mon" she said, jumping into her truck. I climbed into the passenger side of the big black F-250 and we drove down an old, unpaved, and overgrown road, horse trailer behind.

"So why can't we just put them in the barn or one of the bigger turnout paddocks?" I asked.

"There's always 5 other horses out there that could easily push these two around and they need to gain some confidence. I don't think they'll go after eachother. They need to be turned out to play around and just be horses. Every horse needs some time to do that, especially if they've been abused."

"So why are we driving all the way here?"

"For starters, it's a four-minute drive, second, the filly isn't halter broke and the colt is so headshy you can hardly lead him. Down here, they've got a small turnout field and it's got a gate right into a round pen. There's also a tack room and a small feed room. It'll store about 2 weeks worth of grain and hay. It's actually really nice when it's not overgrown." She replied. "Alright, let's check out this fence line." She said, putting the truck in park and jumping out.

We walked along the fence line, which, although overgrown, was in pretty good shape. It wasn't even rotted.

"It could use a little mowing, but these two should handle it fine. They're skinny as rails and you could count their ribs. Open that gate up so I can turn around and back the trailer in, OK?"

"Sure." I replied, moving to open the gate. She got back into the truck and carefully turned around, then easily backed up so the back end of the trailer was inside the paddock.

She jumped out of the truck and hopped the fence since the gate was completely blocked by the trailer.

"OK, let's get these suckers unloaded." She said, expertly undoing the various latches holding the trailer door in place. She carefully swung the door open. When she started talking to the horses, her voice lost the playful, joking, hyper tone and became calmer and more soothing. Despite the attitude change, the horses shrunk back into as far as they could, the tall black colt trying to disappear into the shadows, the filly freezing up against the divider of the slant-load trailer. Emma glanced back at me with a look that clearly said 'see why I wanted to unload _here_?' I grinned in response.

She untied the filly and walked out of the trailer, standing on the ground, waiting for the filly to join her. The filly had the look of someone being forced to jump off the high dive who really doesn't want to. She had her weight forward, watching the ground carefully, as if she was expecting it to fall away if she put any weight on it.

"C'mon baby girl. You're OK, see. If I can stand here so can you." Emma said gently. She bent over and pulled up a handful of grass and held it out to the filly. She reached for it, but Emma drew her hand back, giving the filly the choice to come out of the trailer and get the food or to stay put and get nothing. Reluctantly, the filly put her forelegs on the ground and then leaped the rest of the way out of the trailer. Completely forgetting about Emma, she practically dove into the grass, eating like there was no tomorrow.

Emma unbuckled the filly's halter and handed it to me before walking back into the trailer.

"Hey there, big guy. Do you wanna come out?" With the colt, her voice was more playful than it was with the filly. The colt didn't really need so much reassurance. Emma moved the divider out of the way and untied the black horse. As soon as he was free, he pushed past Emma and jumped out of the trailer, galloping all the way around the field and then coming over to where the filly tore at the grass to join her. When he stopped to eat, Emma came over and carefully took off his halter. She took it and the halter that had been on the filly and tossed them into the trailer before closing and locking the door.

"OK, I need you to shut the gate as soon as I've got the trailer pulled out, got it?" she said briskly. I nodded, standing by the gate. Neither of the horses looked inclined to leave, but it was better to make sure the gate was closed quickly. Once the trailer was out, I swung the gate closed and locked it with a chain. Emma was already out and unhitching the trailer. When she finished, she came over and stood with me by the gate, watching the two horses.

"So what will you name them?"

"Well, I decided to name the colt Crash 'n' Burn, just Burn as a barn name. I was thinking about the filly's name on the way back and for some odd reason my brain was thinking in Spanish, so I came up with Fiesta del Sol, with Fiesta as a barn name."

"Feast of the sun. How'd you come up with that one?" I asked. She just shrugged.

"Even I don't quite understand how my brain works."

The filly sank down and rolled over, clearly enjoying herself. She got up, shook off the grass and dirt and took off at a fast canter, her short legs moving quickly. Burn looked up from his grazing and joined her at a much more collected canter, although they were going the same speed.

"They look so silly, like Mutt and Jeff or something." Emma said. She had a point. Fiesta, by my estimation, was about 14.2, while Burn was about 17 hands, nearly a foot taller than her. I grinned. I had to admit that it was funny. I glanced over at Emma. Instead of grinning, she was fingering a bite mark on the wood of the fence with a lost look on her face.

"You OK?" I asked.

"Oh, uh, yeah. It's just, well…." Emma's explanation drifting off into an uncomfortable silence.

"You kept Ally here, didn't you?" Emma nodded.

"Every time I see something that reminds me of Amber I get like that too. God I miss that mare." I said, swallowing hard. "We were at a show trying to get a place at a big training barn in Maryland. It was a really wet day, and well, Amber wasn't much of a looker. She was short and stocky, like a draft horse, really. The mud was really hard on her. We actually pulled off a clear on our first round, but once it was time for the jump-off, it was muddier. She was having enough problems with the mud, but there was a pole down and neither of us saw it and she tripped over it. She should have refused the next jump. She was so unbalanced, but she took it anyway and caught the rail. She fell and broke a leg. They did surgery on it, but it was infected. We had to put her down."

"I don't really remember what happened to Ally. It's just really hazy now. I got a skull fracture and was considered comatose for a few hours. I guess that explains why I don't remember. We were at a show to qualify for the PanAm games. I really thought we were going all the way…" her voice drifted off again.

"Still too soon to talk?" I asked. She just nodded. She took a deep breath and straightened up, wiping the tears off her face.

"We should get back up to the barn." She said, turning back to the now trailer-free truck. Once we were both in, she started it up and headed back to the barn. She was still tense. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles looked white.

"I know a girl who lives a little ways away, her name's Amy. She's one of those whisperer types. She'd probably be willing to help you with Burn and Fiesta if you want." I said.

"I don't think I'll need much help. I trained Ally myself and she was an ex-racer that was abused. I had to work through abuse, thoroughbred-ness, and racehorse instincts. I can deal with a couple untrained and abused horses." She replied a little coldly. I wisely said nothing, understanding how she felt. She was still hurting from Ally. After a few minutes of an uncomfortable silence, we got back to the farm to find Nick untacking the new horse, Whiz.

"So how was he?" Emma asked Nick.

"Very green. He needs a lot of flatwork on the basics. Lunging would help him a lot. I was thinking you could give him a quick workout on the lunge every day for a while. I don't think you should ride quite yet." Nick told her. Emma rolled her eyes and walked up to the horse, rubbing his nose.

"I guess I could." She said reluctantly. "I'm going to be pretty busy with Burn and Fiesta though." Nick gave her one of those "fatherly looks" that told her to shut up and just accept it.

"Anyway, Daniel, you're off. Go home." Nick said to me.

"Alright, bye."

"Thanks for helping me." Emma called out.

I turned around and grinned. "No problem. I can't wait to see what you can turn those two into."

Well, it's a little shorter than I wanted it to be, but it's a whole 4 ½ pages. I couldn't help but add in Lucky Whizelli. In real life, the horse is a TB racer (who I betted on {sorta} and got 7 dollars {hey, it was 50 cent night and nobody was betting high and he was second, so, yeah}) but I fell in love with the name, so I had to toss him in here.


	5. Chapter 4

Ok, I'm really trying for long chapters involving Heartland, sorry about the slowness.

Oh yeah, I keep forgetting about disclaimers. Well I don't own Heartland (shucks), Lucky Whizelli (he is a real horse), or any of the supplements listed in this chapter, or Jolly Balls (they aren't really very sturdy though. We had one in the field for a few weeks until Lone Star broke it.).

Corkey- you still rock

PunkyCowgirl- ooh! A mustang! My friend has 3. and she's got a burro too! He bit my butt. I went over to their ranch on Saturday and spent the night and I got to ride Omni twice. She is completely green and she doesn't know anything except what a saddle (that thing that slides around on her chubby, round, nearly-witherless back) is and why she doesn't want a bit in her mouth. I LOVE OMNI!!!!

Oh yeah, I found out that the morgan that used to be at my stable could actually jump the back fence, from a standstill, WITH HOBBLES ON!!! Some horses are a little on the obsessive side.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

Leap of Faith

Chapter 4

My alarm clock went off bright and early at 4:30 and I quickly turned it off and got out of bed. It was a habit I had developed when I was 14. I'd get up really early and ride before school, then feed the horses, clean out stalls, and leave. I also didn't have to deal with the crowd of working students coming. Even my dad wasn't up that early.

I shivered slightly, grabbing a sweatshirt. It was a whole lot warmer than this in California. I walked out of my room and downstairs and out the door, not bothering with breakfast. Punching in the keyless entry code on my truck, I climbed in and took my key ring out from under the driver seat. I turned the key and drove the truck over by the barn, close enough to put some feed in the bed. I took the key out of the ignition and walked over to the feed room. Unlocking it, I walked in and managed to find a couple unopened bags in the dark. I picked one up, carrying it over my shoulder, and threw it into the back of the truck. The second bag quickly followed, as did a spare feed scoop.

I paused, glancing around. There were always spare tubs of supplements around here. I walked all the way to the back of the room and lifted up a large tub of Source, a supplement that improves several different things, like hooves, coat, mane, and tail, among others. I lifted this into the tuck before walking back, grabbing a tub of Farrier's Formula, a hoof supplement, and adding that into the growing pile of feed supplies in the truck. I also put in a tub of Weight Builder. I walked down the barn aisle and took a turn that led to another, shorter hallway, lined with tack lockers on one side. Each locker had two or three horses names and the name of their rider on a small whiteboard wired to the front of the wooden lockers. I walked down this hall all the way to the end, to a double-sized, very dusty locker. On the front, it said-

Ally

Tigger

Peppy

Emmy.

My horses. Ally, my big Thoroughbred. Tigger, my little pony, who was mine ever since I was born. He was a little "pony chestnut" Shetland. Peppermint, the pretty albino mare that I had taken to my first competition, and many after it. They were all gone now, every last one of them.

I picked up the dusty eraser and wiped off the board. My name, written by my dad when I was still too young to write it myself, Tigger's name, written in a sloppy, oversized, childish scrawl, Peppy's name, written in a slightly more refined cursive hand, still my own, with little smiley faces in every circle, Ally's name, big and loopy, written only four years ago, when I was 15. I wiped it all off, grabbed and old dry erase marker, rewriting my name, Emma, in a big, loopy hand, similar to the way Ally's name had been written. Below it, I wrote the horses' names.

Burn

Fiesta

Whiz

I went one locker down, to my dad's and grabbed the pack of markers off it. I pulled out a blue one and drew tiny blue flames on either side of Burn's name. Putting that back, I grabbed the red one and drew little red sombreros on Fiesta's name, with one hanging off the F, the other hanging off the t. I also changed the dot on the i so it looked like a miniature chili pepper. On either side of Whiz's name I drew green four-leaf clovers. I sighed, replaced the markers and put in the combination to open my locker, hoping the lock wasn't rusted shut. I pulled down on the lock to open it, but I wouldn't budge.

"Oh shit. Where's the darn WD-40 when you need it?" I asked no one in particular, banging my head on my locker.

"I've got some. The wasps seem to love my locker, so I always keep some handy." I heard a voice say somewhere down the hall, a hint of amusement in his voice. I turned to see Daniel standing in front of his open locker, grinning, holding a can of WD-40. I smiled in return, walking up to him and taking the can. I carefully fitting the straw sprayer-thing in and sprayed it into the grooves of the padlock. I let it sit for a few seconds and then opened it. It opened even easier than it had the last time I had opened it, nearly 5 years ago. I opened the door, quickly checking for any wasps nests that were immediately visable. None, fortunately.

"Well I'm going to have fun cleaning this stuff up. Gosh, and I need to use this saddle for Fiesta. The gullet on my regular saddle will be too narrow for her." Daniel walked up behind me, glancing into my messy locker. He raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Nice mold." He said sarcastically, referring to my saddle.

"Hey, could I keep the WD-40 for a while until I get this junk cleaned up?" I asked.

"Sure, knock yourself out." He said with a grin. I put the can of oil into my locker and came out with a large Jolly Ball, so dusty that you could hardly tell it was blue.

"I guess I'll go hose this off before I take it out to Fiesta and Burn, not that it'll really make a difference, but hey. Who cares anyway?" I said, mostly to myself. "Hey Daniel! What are you doing here this early?"

"Oh, I figured I'd come early to give Storm his usual workout before my friend Amy comes over. She used to own him, so I'll let her ride him a little, but I want to get some time in with him myself." He explained. I just nodded, getting ready to leave. "Oh, and she'd kinda like to meet Fiesta and Burn. Is that alright with you?"

"Oh yeah, that's fine." I said dismissively.

I walked out of the tack room-ish place and over to the hose, cleaning off the ball, then tossing it into the bed of the truck with everything else. Then I walked into a storage shed, and, after rummaging around for a few minutes, found a plastic water tank. I managed to fit this into my truck too and I climbed into the cab, driving down the bumpy road to the lower fields.

When I got there, I hopped out, stuffing the keys into my pocket and pulling out the water tank. I set it close to the gate along the fence. I grabbed a hose, turned it on, and put it into the tank and leaving it to fill. Then I tossed the newly cleaned ball out into the field. I hauled the two feed bags into the small feed room, placing one along the wall and putting the other in a tall beige trash can with a lid. I also opened it, just to save time later. I tossed the feed scoop in along with the bag of feed and closed the lid. I also carried in the supplements and lined them up against the opposite wall.

On the inside of the door was a small whiteboard. I like whiteboards. They're nice and erasable and not dusty like chalk. Anyway, I wiped off my notes about Ally's food and took a marker out of a small unopened pack of them and wrote each horse's name. Glancing quickly at them, I decided how much grain they would each get. Looking at the tubs of supplements, I decided how much of each they would get and wrote it on the board. I took Ally's old nosebags off of the pegs they hung on on the wall and checked them for holes. Not finding any, I filled them up with right amount of grain and supplements for each horse.

Once their nosebags were on, I walked into my old tack room. It was dusty, with the sun barely getting through the small window on one wall. Not a single piece of tack remained hanging in the room. The three saddle racks were folded in for safety and the bridle racks hung empty. There was one tack trunk in a corner, but when I opened it, I found that it contained nothing but a couple broken hay nets, a bucket that was missing a handle, three overstretched horse rubber bands, and a broken stirrup rubber band.

I slowly walked back outside slowly, finding the horses trying to eat grass and the water tank about to overflow. I quickly turned off the hose and removed it from the tank and then I slipped into the field, carefully approaching the horses. It was so much easier when you had a bag full of grain to lure them. I managed to get both horses' nose bags off anyway and then I headed back up to the barn.

I walked over to his stall, checking the information card stating the horse's name, breed, age, sex, feeding instructions, and other notes.

Name: Lucky Whizelli

Breed: Thoroughbred

Age: 7

Sex: Gelding

Feed: 1 1/2 scoops grain, 1 scoop Farrier's Formula 

I went back to the feed room, grabbed a bucket and put his grain and supplement into it, then I took it back to his stall and hung it up. Whiz attacked it like it was his last meal. I grabbed a hose and dragged it into the barn and filled his buckets, then I dragged the hose back and turned it off. I walked into the back of the barn where the hay was kept and grabbed two flakes and carried them back to his stall where I stuffed the hay into his hay net.

I glanced at my watch. It was 6:30 and the working students were starting to arrive. I decided that it would be a good time to attack my locker and stay out of the early morning feeding frenzy. I walked back to the tack area and down to my locker. I grabbed a saddle stand and a plastic chair from a corner. I took my old saddle out and set it on the rack. Diving back into the locker, I came out with a tack trunk. It was covered in dust too, but I remembered it from when I was little. I could remember sitting on the pink trunk holding the sparkly pink lead rope that I always used with Tigger. I closed my eyes, thinking about what was in the trunk. My saddle pads were in there. One of them had butterflies and flowers on it. There was another square pad. It was solid pink. I also had a fluffy white pad in there. There was a pony-sized bridle with a small dee-ring snaffle and a very small girth. There would be a tube of Corona and a few rolls of pink vet rap. The little pink halter and lead rope would still be in there too. It was Tigger's tack trunk.

Underneath that trunk was another one. It was blue. I remembered without even looking at it. It had a mint-green square pad and another fluffy pad, but this one was bigger than Tigger's. This one still had Peppy's bridle too. It wasn't too small. I could probably use it on Fiesta if I cleaned it up. There was a French-link loose-ring bit on it. There was a little jar of Corona in this trunk. For some reason, I felt like I couldn't use Tigger's stuff on Peppy. There would be one roll of mint-green vet rap and a mint-green halter with a white cotton lead rope. I could remember all of that without even looking. I moved that trunk out too, setting it beside Tigger's trunk. I felt along the side of the locker until I found the flashlight hanging on a nail. I took it down and turned it on, pointing it into the locker. No creepy crawlies visible yet. I pulled out all the loose bottles, jars, wraps, bits, pieces of bridles, a stirrup, rubber bands, and sterilized bandages that didn't look very sterilized at the moment.

I just sat for a minute among the heaps of tack. Then I decided that I would put the throw away/give away stuff into Tigger's trunk. I didn't want the pink monstrosity anymore. I don't like pink much. I dumped out everything. I took one of the trays out and decided to put throw away stuff in it. I put bottles and jars without labels, overstretched wraps, a ripped up flymask, some very old Corona, and a shampoo bottle that appeared to have more dirt than shampoo in it into the tray. I kept the square pink pad, the mint-green pad, and the larger fluffy pad, but the other saddlepads went into the trunk to be given away. Tigger's bridle and girth joined them, as did her vet rap. I also kept Peppy's halter and lead rope. A bottle of shampoo and a bottle of conditioner joined the "keep" pile, so did a bottle of Betadine, a jar of Corona, Peppy's flymask that she didn't rip to pieces, Peppy's vet rap, her bridle, and an unopened bag of rubber bands.

I put all of the stuff in the keep pile into Peppy's trunk and the rest went into Tigger's. I had also managed to find some leather therapy stuff which included cleaner, restorer, conditioner, and water-proofer. I had set that and a rag aside for my saddle.

"Emma! Emma, where are you?" I heard Daniel call.

"I'm in the tack area attempting to clean this darn saddle." I replied. Daniel walked in, followed by a girl with long, light brown hair who looked about 16. I recognized her from somewhere, but I had no clue where.

"Emma, this is Amy, Amy, Emma." Daniel said, introducing us.

"Oh, yeah. I remember you from that auction. How's it going with those two horses?" she asked.

"I haven't had a chance to work with them yet, but I did manage to get nosebags on them earlier. Do you want to go see them?" I offered.

"Ok, sure. Where are they?" she asked. I stood up, motioning Daniel and Amy to follow me. We walked out to the truck and got in. I drove down to the pack pastures and all the way down to Burn and Fiesta's field.

"Why so far away?" Amy asked.

"It's quieter, everything I need is down here. They've got a private field, a round pen, tack room, feed room, and if I mow that field over there, there's a pretty good riding ring underneath that grass." I answered. "And I don't have to deal with the whole rush of people, or the occasional visitor or whatever."

"Yeah, I guess this really is pretty nice." Amy said.

Daniel's cell phone rung and he answered it, listening for a moment, every once in a while making some kind of affirmative noise before hanging up and putting the phone away.

"Amy, Ty says that Kryptonite hung his leg on a bar of the fence, they got him out, byt it's pretty cut up and they've called Scott and Ty thinks it would be a good idea if you came to help calm him down a little."

I just felt like stopping cuz this is taking me forever and school just started and I can't get on the computer much anymore. Next chapter will (hopefully) be up in the next couple weeks.


End file.
